


Imagine... #4

by Caged_Heat_40, SoulSurvivor_36



Series: Imagine... [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom!Sam, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forceful Sex, Hair-pulling, Moose ramming, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Seduction, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, biting and bruising, cum, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 15:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13367802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caged_Heat_40/pseuds/Caged_Heat_40, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulSurvivor_36/pseuds/SoulSurvivor_36
Summary: Imagine this…. You just had the most ridiculous yoga class you’ve ever had.  The teacher was useless, and kept lingering around you, putting his hands on you more than necessary and “checking your form”. Who cares that he’s probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen... and the tallest… he is going to get a piece of your mind.





	Imagine... #4

You roll up your mat, your mind reeling from the strange encounter you just had with the hottest yoga instructor you've ever seen. You're sure that you're blowing things all out of proportion, but you are still set on making it clear to him that you aren't particularly comfortable with the way class went. You clip your mat strap and sling it behind your shoulder trying to decide how exactly to phrase your comments. You make your way through the crowd of chattering people as they steadily make their way to the door, the large room getting emptier by the minute.

You approach the instructor as he wishes someone a good evening. You stand on his other side, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other as another attendee starts talking to him, cutting you off as you were about to adress him. You close your mouth and roll your eyes at the rudeness. You end up glancing at the mirror clad wall and realize for the first time the tremendous height difference between you and the man: your head barely reaches his shoulder. You notice something else too, staring at the reflected back of him… from shoulders to ankles, there doesn’t seem to be a smidge of fat, he is all toned muscle on a gargantuan frame.

You end up staring so long at him in the mirror that you don’t realize the other person had finished talking to him and he has turned all of his attention to you.

"Hi! Did you enjoy the class?"

"Hmmmm. What?” You turn from the reflection and crane your neck to look up into his handsome face, “Oh, yeah! I mean, no. I mean, I think we need to have a talk," you manage to say as you find yourself staring at him much longer than you should have, twisting the strap of your mat sling nervously.

He has shoulder length light brown hair tucked back behind an ear exposing his features and you run your eyes across his face noticing small details like the fine smile lines around his eyes, the slight stubble lining his defined jaw, and the clear hazel eyes smiling down at you. Your eyes are drawn suddenly to his mouth as he subtly licks at his lips and you do the same without realizing it. The pull at your lip as you hurriedly tuck your tongue back into place betrays how dry your mouth has gone and you look down trying to get a hold of yourself, hoping he hasn’t noticed your odd behaviour.

“Yeah, sure. Everything ok?”

“Well, um,” you start as he turns away, heading towards his gym bag in the corner of the room. You put down your yoga mat close to the door, suddenly annoyed with your fidgeting fingers. You catch up to where he has stopped and you’re suddenly hit by the sweetly, musky scent of his cooling sweat, and the strong fresh scent of his deodorant, even as you detect the mild, lingering spiciness of his body wash or aftershave and you have to stop and recenter yourself again, chastising your body’s slightly giddy reaction to him. He crouches down to rummage through his army green duffel bag, and you feel slightly more confident with this new height dynamic.

“I wanted to discuss your conduct during class. I’ve been doing yoga now for quite some time, and, especially recently, I’ve had many different instructors… but I’ve never had one quite as unprofessional as you.”

A deep frown twists the man’s brow and he purses his lips, looking worried, and for a moment, slightly insecure, and you pause in your sermon, thrown off. You’re so used to dealing with self-righteous pricks that this flash of genuine concern catches you off guard, but you push on determined to have your say. “I mean… Seriously, the hovering? Like, constantly. I felt like I was being watched by a hawk… and I was the rabbit! And… and the…” you flounder as he looks up at you, that frown still in place and… is that… remorse? “The hands! I mean come on, yeah alright you can check my form or whatever, but touching me like you did? It made me…. um…” you feel again that strange rush that you had felt when his hand gripped your hip and then smoothed along your back like a gentle caress, “uncomfortable,” you finish, your voice trailing off as he straightens up again, forcing you to take a step back so he isn’t towering over you.

His eyes are focused on you so intently that you cannot meet his gaze and you find your heart accerelating, responding to some signals in your brain and you don’t know if you want to run, hide or attack.

You find your hands have become entwined with your hair as you anxiously twist and twirl strands between your fingers. No matter how nervous you feel, or how when he looks at you it sends your insides fluttering, you refuse to back down and you force your eyes to meet his again. You push your confidence forward and your uncertainty away and step toward him again. He towers over you, his frown has become more of a twisted concern and your heart jumps a little. You notice that the sweat that had once glimmered on his skin has now dried, yet his scent still fills your nose; that spicy, sweet, musky scent that you had caught faintly before has taken over and become intoxicating.

"I'm sorry,” he said, his voice soft and smooth, “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just trying to help."

"Well, you should watch how you behave during a class! You... you... you need to learn the meaning of personal space! And..." Your words trail off again as you realize he's very much in your personal space right now and you wonder when he got so damn close, before you remember that you’re the one who had moved closer…

He doesn't budge and his eyes, those piercing hawk eyes, are fixed on you again, and this time it’s not concern on his face, but something different, something deeply intense that has pushed through and is all consuming. You find yourself taking a slightly shaky breath, trying to calm the sudden rage of arousal coursing through you. This is neither the time… nor the place for this kind of thing.

And yet, you can’t deny the attraction and your thoughts wander back, almost against your will, to the feel of his hand on your back. You suddenly get a flash of those fingers digging into the flesh at your hip, a flash so vivid, that your knees nearly give as he pulls you back against him, driving straight into your core, unleashing a wave of ecstasy.

You regain your senses and realize that his hands are on you, holding you around the waist as though to stop you from falling, and the heat of his palms is going right through the thin fabric of your lycra top.

“Would you like to maybe, get a drink? Or something?” you find yourself asking dazedly, wondering who the hell was running the show in your brain because they’re next on your list of people to put in their place.

“You ok?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I have a blood sugar thing. So, if you’re not busy, we could go grab something to drink. And, maybe… some food.” You smile at him shyly, and you realize that his hands are still around your waist. His grip is firm, yet gentle, and you’re suddenly hyper aware that you’re starting to sweat. The heat from his lengthy frame against you is causing your heart to beat faster and you find yourself enveloped in him: his scent, his heat, his body. You look up at him, his eyes trained on you and you feel your face redden.

“Well, if I agree to go with you for a drink, do you promise not to yell at me anymore?” His face relaxes into a soft, and absolutely charming smile. You remain in his arms for a few moments longer, caught up in his gaze. Slowly, almost beyond your control, your hands leave your side and smooth up his arms, coming to rest on the swell of his biceps. His skin is smooth and cool and you can’t help but run your thumbs lightly up and down the taut muscles that lay beneath.

“I don’t think I feel like yelling at you anymore,” you say, the sound of your voice reaching your ears like your whole head is encased in a bubble.

Your eyes are level with his chest, but you feel him shifting slightly and so you look up at his face. Everything seems heightened, and sharp: his arms holding you to him, his body heat radiating off of him like a space heater in January, and your breath hitches in your chest as his mouth forms words that just barely reach your cottonfilled ears.

“What do you feel like doing now?” he asks.

“You…” you start, but then stop as another flash of him: his strong arms wrapped tightly around you and holding your body against his as his mouth roams and explores the skin on your neck, nibbling and suckling.

You let out a sigh as your eyes squeeze shut trying to banish the vision that leaves you feeling more and more aware, your whole body feeling like it’s crawling with ants.

You open your eyes again to see his hazel eyes looking at you concerned, his face so close to yours and you feel the throb in your lower regions and suddenly there’s nothing in the world even remotely as important as kissing those silken lips. You pull at your bottom lip with your teeth again and your hands slowly trail their way further up his arms and twine around the back of his neck.

“This is crazy,” you whisper, stopping him in his tracks as he leans in towards you.

“What is?” he asks, and you notice with a strange hunger in the pit of your stomach, that he is sounding slightly breathless too.

You start pulling him down toward you, not meeting any resistance. “I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Sam,” he says as his mouth comes crashing down on yours. You part your lips to welcome him, your tongue flicking out to taste him and he teases you back with his tongue. Your hands close into tight fists, gripping the long hair at the base of his skull, holding him to you as your mouth devours his, the energy coursing through your bodies just disorienting and intoxicating and oh so good.

You feel him pull you up and you wrap your legs around his waist automatically. A moan escapes you, vibrating against his lips, and you feel the hard throbs of arousal even as you struggle with yourself. This is all going way too fast. You manage to pull away from his mouth, gasping for breath, but he descends on your outstretched neck instead, suckling and licking at the sensitive skin at the base of your throat.

“Sam,” you exhale, like a prayer on the wind as you test out the feel of his name. His arms are wrapped all the way around you and he squeezes you to him, his mouth coming back up to kiss you, the passion quickly escalating and coming off the two of you in waves.

You feel the muscles in his arms working as he holds you up, and the air in your lungs is forced out as he pushes you against the cold mirrors lining the wall. He pushes his hips into you, his hard cock landing perfectly against your throbbing slit, the fabric of your yoga pants letting him slide against you with hardly any friction. You let out another moan and suddenly, you need to be free of the clothes restraining you.

You claw at his shirt, pulling it up his back in bunches until you feel the smooth hot skin underneath. You slowly slide down his body as he unwinds his arms from around you, reaching back and yanking the shirt over his head. You release your legs’ death grip on his waist and he jams his knee between your legs, holding you against the wall.  
Your breathing has become labored and you lick your lips in anticipation of tasting him. You try to push forward, wanting to run your tongue down his salty chest, but he pushes you back against the wall. He looks at you, his eyes wild and he thrusts forward, his mouth connecting with yours again. You try to move your hands toward him, the need to touch him becoming unbearable, but he stops you. He pulls back, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks. "I think you're overdressed for the occasion." He smiles a wicked smile as he grabs a hold of the neck hole on your top, your ears greeted by the sound of ripping material. The cold air hits your bare breasts causing your nipples to harden immediately, and you let out a low growl. He moves quickly, pulling your nipple into his mouth with his tongue as he flicks and pulls at it with his teeth. You take in a sharp breath at the sudden twinge of pain from his bite followed by the wave of pleasure rushing through your body.

Your hands grab at his hair, getting tangled in its softness as he continues to pull and nip at your nipple roughly, his hand so large he covers your breast as he squeezes it tightly, the wonderous torture sending all kinds of fun signals through you. You pull back on his hair, trying to get his attention to shift back up to you, wanting his lips on yours again. He ignores you though and continues his torture of your nipples, switching his mouth to your other breast, leaving his drying saliva to cool on your painfully stiff nipple, before covering it up again with his hand.

You gasp and yank at his hair harder as his other hand glides down your stomach and slips under the elastic waist of your yoga pants. He hisses in a sharp breath through his teeth then finally shifts his attention back up to you, straightening up to his full height while still pinning you to the wall.

“Those hands of yours are a problem,” he growls at you, pressing into you with a mischievious twinkle in his eye.

Without taking his eyes off you, he leans over to the right and reaches for something beside you on the open shelves, but you hardly pay attention as you devour the shape of his bare chest and abs, his muscles taut and gleaming, impressive in the unforgiving light of the room. You reach out to touch him, wanting to smooth your hands all over him but he grabs you by the wrist and holds you tightly, your breath hitching in your chest again. Before you can reach with your other hand, he removes his knee and spins you around. He pulls both your hands behind your back and quickly wraps what you now realize is a Pilates strap around your wrists tight enough that you can’t get free. He leans in, his hot chest grazing your bare back and you let out a hiss at the sudden new sensations coursing through you. He grabs your ponytail and yanks the elastic out, making your hair cascade down your back before sliding his hand close to your scalp and closing his fist in the hair at the base of your skull. Your body is reacting to his forcefulness and every nerve is straining for him to touch your sensitized skin, to hurt you deliciously.

He yanks your head back, his mouth by your ear, his breath hot on your neck and you feel your knees start to give way. He thrusts his knee between your legs again to hold you up as he grabs your hip with his other hand and pulls your ass back toward him. You feel his hard cock against the curve of your ass, the member as garguantuan as his frame suggests, and his free hand slides around your waist and back into the elastic on your yoga pants.

“Where was I? Oh yeah!” His words come out like the hiss of a threatened cat and he thrusts his hand down, cupping your hot, wet, throbbing mound.  “Mmmmm. You are so fucking wet!”

He pulls back on your hair again as he roughly thrusts his fingers into your pussy, his cock pressed firmly against your ass. He pulls his fingers back, rubbing them against your clit in small, fast circles. You let out a low moan at the pleasure swelling and rushing through you with a tremor and you push against him wanting to feel him inside of you. He shifts, pushing against you, his cock now settled between the cheeks of your ass and he thrusts his fingers back into you, slipping in and out while his breath whooshes in your ear, his cock between your legs heating through the layers of clothes and you push your hips back against his like the thought alone would be enough to make your clothes disappear and have his huge, swollen, throbbing cock driving into you. Your eyes squeeze shut for a moment, but as you open them, you remember the floor to ceiling windows beside you, and how they look down right on the building's parking lot below, and the people making their way to their cars. What if one just happens to look up? You moan, feeling the dampness flooding around his fingers but before you can settle into a rhythm of thrusting fingers and pressing hips, he pulls his hand from your bottoms completely and spins you around to face him.

"Sam," you whisper breathlessly, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You part your lips, running your tongue slowly along the lower one, tilting your head back, inviting him in for another tongue wrestling kiss.

He lays his hand against your collar bone and pushes you back against the wall roughly as his head bends down, his long hair hiding his face, but you can see his back heaving from his exertion and arousal.

"This…" he says between breaths, his voice roughened, "This is not what I came here to do."

"So, what?" you whisper back, dislodging his hand with a shake of your shoulders and slamming your mouth against his in near desperation. You pull at your tied wrists and growl in frustration at the effective restraints.

He pushes against you hard, his hand making its way back to your collar bone and you gasp at the sensation of his long fingers pressing into your throat, your tendons working hard to keep him from crushing you. He pushes back from you, his mouth twisted in a snarl, and he pulls you against him. His other hand seizes you at the nape, and he roughly entwines his fingers in the strands and pulls back, jerking your head back and tilting your face upwards. He leans in close to you, his rough stubble scratching against your soft skin and he speaks into your ear; the timber low and gritty.

“You sure this is what you want?”

“Mmm hmm.”

The sound comes out strained and raspy, your breath shaky from the promise of more and you try to pull away so you can see his amazing hazel eyes again and look deep into his soul and read the cravings he holds there: his thirst for violence, his need for release. He tightens his grip further and gives your head a slight shake.

“I really don’t think you understand what you’re asking for,” he growls as he releases his grip on your throat and moves you away from the wall and toward the yoga mats that lay in a stack right up next to the window. His legs are so long that you nearly stumble trying to keep up to his long strides as he forces you forward.

He shoves you into the mats piled to your hips, and you land hard on your stomach, your hands still bound behind you, and every bit of air is knocked out of your lungs in a huff. You lift your head to see your reflection staring back at you, and Sam poised behind your bent over frame. His eyes are drawn downward as he stares at your ass and licks his lips. He rubs his hands together and the anticipation of what is to come next soaks your pussy again.

“Sam! Please!” you beg him, and he looks up catching your eye in the mirror. An almost evil smile caresses his lips and his eyes darken as you get hit with the sensation of him plowing into you hard, tearing into your body roughly and you close your eyes moaning, knowing and relishing in the kind of pleasurable pain his eyes promise you.

He reaches down and hooks the elastic of your pants with his fingers. He yanks them down your legs in quick rough gestures, nearly pulling you off the mats and forcing you to spread yourself wide to keep from falling off, your breasts flatened against the vinyl. The room’s cool air hits your hot, wet pussy and you moan again, the swelling tissues throbbing so hard with rushing blood. You look into the mirror and watch Sam as he pulls down his own shorts and straightens up behind you. The sight of his full, hard, erect cock rising above your ass sends butterflies flip flopping in your stomach.

He bends forward and loops an arm under your waist pulling back on your hips as he bends his knees and uses his right hand to line himself up with your slit, rubbing his tip along your slick lips and pushing forward enough for you to feel yourself already starting to stretch just from his tip. He looks up into the mirror, shaking his long hair out of his face, and catches your eyes watching him. He smiles that devilish smile again, releases his cock and grabs hold of your bound wrists. He tightens his grip around your waist, holding you steady for a moment before he thrusts forward, grinding his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut as he tears into your wet tightness and a strangled scream breaks loose from your lips. He stretches and fills you completely as he buries himself deep, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your mouth open, but the scream now stuck in your throat. You’re so full and stretched it hurts and feels amazing all at once and you relish the feel of him inside you, filling you up with rushing energy, the adrenaline kicking into high gear.  
You look into the mirror at the god standing behind you and planted deep inside and you catch his eye again, silently beggin him to fuck you raw.

He moves his hands to your hips, straightening up behind you and holding you steady as he slowly pulls himself out inch by inch then slams back into you with a rough grunt.  “Yes!” you cry out, squeezing around him as much as you can as he pulls out again, “Fuck me, Sam!”

He drives into you over and over, each thrust accompanied by a resounding skin slapping sound as his hips connect with your ass, the skin getting damp as your wetness, the only thing stopping your skin from tearing from the force of his fucking, covers his pelvis. His fingers dig into you, bruising your skin and your taut, raw nipples rub against the vinyl mat as he pulls you back and pushes you forward with every thrust, the pain and pleasure blending together deliciously.

He settles into a fast, hard pace that sends a shock and shiver through to your core with every thrust. You watch him in the mirror as he pounds into you, his muscles tensing and contracting as he pulls you hard against him. With every thrust your walls have to adjust to him only to have him pull back out just as fast.

As he plows into you, he suddenly pulls back on your bound wrists and stands you up. His hand snakes tightly around your waist and he pulls you against him, his hard cock buried deep again and your throat is so dry from your heavy breathing that you can barely make any noise. His hand moves from your hip back to your throat and he holds you in place against his chest. You hear the hiss bleed from his lips and you know he’s close, but not quite there yet. His hand quickly moves from your throat to your bare breast as he grabs at it as if his life depends on it. He leans forward, his body draping over yours and all you can see in the mirror is his muscular arms around your body, his long shaggy hair covering most of your face, and his cock disappearing into your pussy between your open legs. He pushes you around the mats and up against the cold mirror, the glass cold against your cheek as he starts pumping into you again. His hand moves from your chest, the cold surface replacing his hot skin and sending shocks through your raw nipples. Your juices flow freely down your legs and you feel your knees begin to shake. You’re so close to letting go and you feel your walls contract around him in spasms. Each thrust forward holds him inside of you a second longer than before and his breathing becomes mixed with moans of his own.

It’s time. You can feel it as he swells and thrusts, his legs beginning to shake, his throat releasing moans into your ear as he bites down on your bare shoulder. You moan too, feeling your clit pulsing and twitching. All you need is a little pressure and you’ll come undone. You pull your arm forward to do it yourself and realize your hands are still firmly tied behind your back.

“Sam,” you manage to moan through the building pressure. “Sam,” you say again and wiggle your hips, breaking his increasingly shaky rhythm.  His mouth moves from your shoulder, to your throat and then sucks in your earlobe, his cock burried so fucking deep.  “Damnit, Sam. Untie me or rub me, but do something, please. I wanna come baby. I need it so badly, please,” you beg him with your raw throat, catching his eye in the mirror again and you see the passion fog cloud his irises and you know he’s about ready to explode too

His hand leaves your hip and moves to your front, his fingertips moving between your tautly stretched lips and he just barely touches your hardened nub, a shock raging through your system and you gasp and moan until he finally finds the right spot and puts pressure on it, thrusting wildly up into you as the building pressure is suddenly released from your core and you come hard, screaming his name and squeezing every muscle in your body, locking his cock in place with a vice like grip.

He’s not far behind you and he cries out, sending a surge of energy straight to your core as he fills you up with his come. The surge rushes through your body, waking you up down into your very tissues in a way that nothing else does and you sigh in relief as you pull at that source of energy, drawing as much as you can out of him and into you, feeling it like a wave of heat rushing to your extremities and making your skin tingle all over. You look into the mirror, a smirk on your face as realization dawns on him and his eyes roll back into his head and he collapses to the ground.

You right yourself and pull the strap at your wrists taut, snapping it in half. You turn and stand over him, your thighs sticky with your combined juices and you smile to yourself, feeling his life force rushing through you making you stronger by the minute. You crouch down, straddling his naked hips as his head lolls to the side, a weak moan escaping his parted lips.

“You’re strong, Sam,” you say to him, mildly impressed, no trace of your soreness left as your body finishes to regenerate. You stretch luxuriously on top of him, feeling like a new woman and you easily dodge his slow moving arm as it comes up towards you. You laugh as you shoot your arm out, clasping your fingers around his broad neck, cutting off his airways. You smile as he struggles against you - his weakened body no match for you.

You turn your head to the side sharply as the door bursts open and a man in a green bomber jacket charges in holding a knife in his right hand. You slowly stand and step away from Sam’s inert body, squaring off with this new threat, confidence coursing through you. You chuckle to yourself as his eyes distractedly look down your body and a flash of lustful thoughts flicker into your consciousness.

“Oh goody,” you say, a smirk on your lips, “two-for-one deal.”

He glances at Sam, lying prone behind you and he takes a step forward looking wild, “What did you do to my brother, bitch?”

“He was very...fulfilling," you say, running your hands down your body and moaning.  “Maybe you’d like to fill me up too,” you add dipping your finger in the mess between your legs and sucking the salty juices off your finger.

“Exorcisamus te…” he starts to say in his rough voice and you feel a twinge in you stomach as he recites the familiar words that will banish you back to hell.

You rush him, feeling Sam’s strength fueling your limbs as you overtake the hunter and straddle him. Your hand clasps so tightly around his throat, his words are cut off along with his breath and you smile, already thinking about having another dose of this family’s impressive life force.

Something is suddenly very wrong, though, you realize, as you start to feel weak, the power that had been coursing through you flickering and fading. Your head grows dizzy as your body grows heavy and you glance down as your eyelids begin to close to see the wooden handle of the knife jutting out of your abdomen, yellow-gold light flickering around it where it has pierced your skin. You fall to the side and everything around you fades to nothing with a final flicker.

Dean lays back with a relieved sigh before rolling the dead weight of the succubus shell off his body completely. He bends over it, appreciating one last glance at the perfect body before reaching for the handle of his knife. "That's the only poking you're gonna get from me, demon whore!" he says, before pulling it out and standing up.

From behind, he hears his brother waking up and he turns in time to see him sit up, holding his throbbing head and giving Dean a clear line of sight to his bare genitals

“Whoa, hey! You mind covering that thing up there, dude? Seriously, show’s over, man.”

Sam looks down at himself, and quickly grabs at his nearby shorts yanking them on to cover himself up. "What in the hell happened?" he asks as he rubs at his eyes, catching sight of the dead naked body at his brother’s feet.

“You fell for the monster again, that’s what happened.”

Dean walks over to his brother and helps him to his feet. Sam looks around again, still slightly dazed and reaches for his shirt. “What’re we supposed to do with her? We can’t exactly walk out with a dead body, Dean.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve already scarred the little leaguers for life, bud,” Dean says nodding his head towards the windows, “You and that thing sure gave Casa Erotica a run for their money.”

Sam’s annoyed glare makes Dean smile as he glances around, turning on his heels. He sees the open duffel bag on the floor and walks over to it. He dumps its contents on the ground, getting an annoyed “Dude!” From his brother and then turns to look at the body again, a true shit-eating grin plastering itself to his face. “How much you willing to bet I can get it in your bag?”

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, we would like to thank you all for reading another installment of our Imagine... series. We love writing these so much, and hope that they are exciting and fun for you to read! As always, if you loved the story, please leave a kudos and/or comment for us, nothing quite like a little encouragement and love from the readers :-)  
> We can't wait to bring you another new story! Thank you!


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